in vain to throw him off. It was screaming in pain and rage, and she could see smoke rising from its neck — to her horror, she saw the iron bridle, looped over its head in about the right place — but not quite. Niall was clinging grimly to the reins of the bridle as the iron pressed deeper and deeper into the Kelpie’s flesh, struggling to move forward on its body as it writhed and shrieked beneath him.
“You stink of the foal,” the horse bellowed, its deep voice strained and cracking with the force of its rage and pain. “Is it yours, the helpless whelp? I ought to have eaten it whole, bones and skin —”
“Quiet,” Niall grunted. The Kelpie opened its mouth again, clearly ready to deliver more taunts, and Helen bit her lip, deeply worried that the creature would drive Niall into a blind rage with insults to his son. But the minute its sharp teeth parted, Niall slipped the iron bit between its teeth, and with a yank of the reins, the bridle was secured on its great head.
There was a long, frozen moment as the Kelpie’s sharp teeth gripped down around the iron bit… and for a moment, Helen worried that it was going to bite the bit in half and hurl Niall into the water. Or worse — drag him out there to drown. Hadn’t they been told, over and over, that the most dangerous thing you could do was to climb onto the back of a Kelpie? Iron bridle or no, he’d taken a terrifying risk there… but as she watched, she realized that the Kelpie was still, calm, for all the world like a docile tame horse. Still gripping the reins hard in his hand, Niall slid down off its great shoulder, dropping heavily to the ground — the Kelpie was big enough to make it a big drop for even a man like Niall. He tugged at the reins, and the Kelpie stepped after him obediently, lowering its great head in a gesture that was almost like a bow. Its eyes, which had been flashing red with fury, were back to a dull, glossy black, and all of the rage and scorn in its body had melted away.
Carefully, Niall released the reins… and the creature didn’t move. It simply stood, its eyes resting placidly on him, as though it was waiting for his next command. There was something downright eerie about the way it stared at him — something almost possession-like about the way it had been stilled. But Helen would take it — this eerie silence beat the hell out of the monster that had almost killed her lover.
“You did it!” Eamon shouted from her arms, and suddenly he was wiggling — a very familiar feeling, she thought with amusement as she lowered him to the ground. He went sprinting across the rocky beach toward his father, Helen in hot pursuit, and Niall turned to open his arms and scoop his son up into a bone-crushing hug. They stood like that for a long moment, father and son, embracing — Helen could see tears on Niall’s cheeks as he held his son, his eyes shut tight, breathing in the little boy. Then he pulled back, looking anxious.
“Are you alright, Eamon? Did he hurt you?”
“You caught a Kelpie! Is it ours now? Are we going to ride it home?”
“Eamon,” Niall said, exasperation mingling with the love in his voice. “We cannot keep it as a pet —”
“He’s fine, by the way,” Helen murmured, slipping alongside Niall and putting an arm around his waist. “I checked. Some rope burns, but nothing that a bit of salve won’t heal.”
“I’m hungry, too,” the boy put in hopefully.
Niall nodded, his eyes on the Kelpie.
“Aye, Eamon. We’ll get you home for dinner, that’s for certain.” He glance down at Helen with a confused smile. “Now that I’ve caught it, I don’t know what to do with it.”
“We can help with that, I think.”
A familiar voice rang out across the beach. Helen turned, surprised to hear old Maggie’s voice — but sure enough, there she stood, Darter at her side. There was something odd about the two of them — she squinted, trying to get a better look at them as the sunlight continued to drain from the sky. It was their hands, she realized. Both of them were wearing what looked like thick hide gloves. What on Earth for?
“Daft idea,” she told Niall without preamble as